Monday, April 17, 2017

In the Fields of Grace

While I was moving some bits and pieces of china around in my cabinet the other day, I noticed a little kitchen tile tucked away in a corner.  It belonged to my mother.  She always liked the poem on it, and so do I.

Said the Robin to the Sparrow, I would surely like to know
why these anxious human beings rush about and worry so.
Said the Sparrow to the Robin, Friend, I think that it must be
that they have no Heavenly Father such as cares for you and me.

That's wise stuff right there.  Very wise.  All we really can do in this life is try our best and say our prayers, and then we just have to move forward trusting in grace because we can't know the outcome until the time is ripe and the harvest is accomplished.

Last night, I decided to stop worrying for awhile.  I said my prayers and left the problem to God:  I needed sleep; the cat wanted the porch; so, for the first time ever, I left Daisy outside on her own all night.  It's hard to trust, to believe that things will be alright no matter how they turn out; but trust is what I did.

This morning, I feel a bit better.  And Daisy is just fine.  Oh, she's still elderly and frail but she already was anyway.  I honestly don't know how much longer she will be with me but I can't worry about that either.  Our times are in the hands of God.  I just want Daisy to be happy as much as she can.  And I also want to be sufficiently rested so that I can do as much as I am able.

It's gonna be okay.
I'm hopeful for a productive day.
Life is good.

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